


more than obsolete (working title)

by Gothelixar



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxious Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Child Death, Connor whump, F/F, F/M, Fuck you david cage, Gavin Reed Being Less of an Asshole, Hank is a mess, Human Alice Williams (Detroit: Become Human), I love that tag, M/M, Minor Character Death, PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts, connor pretends to be human au, father and son hank and connor, follows cannon for two thirds of a chapter and then throws it out the window, he never made it to production, im sorry, no beta we die like men, no rk900, north is protective but not bad, not a gavin reed redemption arc hes just slightly less of an asshole, there will be no north bashing in this story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2020-02-28 07:21:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18751696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothelixar/pseuds/Gothelixar
Summary: based on a tumblr post by: one-irrelevant-ghostthe rk800 line has been scrapped due to irreparable software instabilities and all models were destroyed.connor wakes up in the junkyard, damaged and deviant but not ready to die.lost and without a purpose he disguises himself as a human detective and becomes hank andersons human partner.when the deviant case is brought to the police without an android attached he and hank are assigned the case.can he handle investigating his own kind without revealing what he is?(im not good at writing summaries, ill probably redo this whole summary later)





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> oh boy i have so much planed for this story! it took a while to get the first chapter written but everything else is planned out and hopefully I wont take too long to get a second chapter out. i wont try to say how long it will take because i am an ADHD mess.

From the moment Connor's eyes opened he knew something was off. If asked he wouldn't be able to define it; his systems diagnostics all said he was one hundred percent operational, however the nagging feeling of wrongness persisted long after he left the lab; and it showed no signs of disappearing along the cab ride. If he could feel such a thing he might say it made him anxious, however he was an android and to say that would be foolish.

 

Connor was not anxious; he was logically contemplating the effects this anomaly may incur upon his mission.

The system anomaly remained unfound as he exited the cab and he felt a strange hot twitch inside his biocomponents. Frustration perhaps? No, that was out of the question.

Calmly walking into the building he did a quick scan of the lobby. Dozens of heavy military boot prints littered the expensive rug, indicating at least six officers had rushed through the lobby in the last twenty minutes. An android sat behind a desk beside the elevator, unfazed by the evenings events. The imitation crystal chandelier hanging from the centre of the ceiling caught the red and blue lights of the emergency vehicles and reflected them in spattering patterns across the wall. There was nothing of interest.

 

Ignoring the reception android he summoned the elevator and selected the top floor. The doors opened with a pleasant ding, and repeated it when they closed behind him. The elevator took 1.85 Seconds to begin moving and each floor was passed in 0.875 Seconds, leaving him with 1 minute and 3 seconds to spare. Ample time to run a final systems diagnostic.

There had to be an anomaly somewhere in his code, the alternative was impossible.

 

He was not anxious.

The fact that he was fidgeting with his coin meant nothing, he was merely calibrating; it was simply another attempt at resolving whatever error was affecting his system. The fact that his stress levels slowly dropped in the process was irrelevant.

The numbers of the floors flickered past in regular intervals of 0.875 Seconds, counting up to the penthouse apartment. He wasn't soothed by the pattern, regardless of what his stress levels may indicate.

 

Connor was a machine, he could not be anxious.

He was designed to be cyberlifes greatest achievement, the Mona Lisa of automation; years had been put into his design, refining his every stabilisers and biocomponent, testing retesting and reprogramming every line of code in his software, giving him the most advanced CPU ever installed in an android and filling it with thousands of programs and subroutines. Nothing about his design was made carelessly, down to the placement of every mole and freckle added to his faux-dermal layer. He was a perfect machine, and could not be anxious.

The elevator slowed to a halt and Connor pocketed his coin before straightening his already perfect tie. 63.1 Seconds, just as calculated.

 

"find captain Allen" flashed in the corner of his vision as he stepped out into a hallway and a swat officer took off down the hall. "Negotiator on site."

It must have been quite an elegant entry hall before the chaos of the evening, but as it was the aesthetic was literally shattered. Broken glass glinted on the floor along with spilt water. Bullet holes filled both the walls and the aquarium. .355 Bullets his programming supplied. Clearly whomever had pulled the trigger hadn't been concerned with the trajectory of the bullets.

A wet slapping caught his attention and he spotted a colourful fish floundering amongst the spilled water and broken glass. A dwarf gourami. The poor fish must have jumped out of the tank after the gunshots distressed it. Resentment rose inside him at the carelessness of the shooter, this fish had almost died due to the negligence of-

 

**^^software instability detected^^**

 

No. Connor didn't feel resentment. He was an android and android don't feel anything.

Carefully Connor placed the fish back into the tank, watching it right itself and regain its liveliness, swimming happily away. His stress levels dropped to an easy 10%.

 

**^^software instability detected^^**

 

He chose to ignore the warning in the corner of his vision. He felt fine.

 

Directly across from the fish tank he spotted a photo frame and took a moment to scan it. Caroline Phillips, John Phillips and Emma Phillips.

A commotion drew his attention as a woman's voice filled the halls.

"no I can't leave her!"

 

Two swat officers entered the hall carefully but forcefully escorting a distressed woman. Caroline Phillips his facial recognition offered. As soon as she caught sight of him the distressed woman surged forward out of the officers grasp and clutched at his shoulders desperately.

 

"please! Please you've got to save my little girl-!" The woman begged before her eyes focused on his LED. She drew back as though he had burned her and a pang of-something-shot through his systems.

 

"wait...You're sending...An android? You can't do that!" She exclaimed horrified as the two officers again grasped her shoulders and continued escorting her through the hall, one of them trying to calm her down.

 

"why aren't you sending a real person?!! Keep that thing away from my daughter!!! Keep it away!!!" The woman continued to shriek hysterically as she was practically carried into the elevator.

No-one had hit him but he had the inexplicable feeling of being punched in the stomach.

 

**^^software instability detected^^**

 

Three software instabilities detected within a minute. Combined with his as of yet unknown system anomaly they clearly spelled out a major flaw in his coding. This was troubling to say the least. He would be sure to report these errors to Amanda so they could be dealt with. Not now though, his system repair would have to wait until after the mission.

Carefully straightening his jacket Connor made his way through the hall to find captain Allen. Around him several officers muttered amongst themselves. He chose to ignore it, they weren't his priority and their opinions on him were inconsequential.

 

_ Mrs Phillips' opinion should have been inconsequential. Why hadn't it been? _

 

He swatted the thought away quickly.

Captain Allen was easy enough to find, the helmet-less man would have stood out easily enough as it was, the fact that he was shouting angrily into a phone only made it easier. He was clearly a hot tempered and stubborn man. Connor doubted he would be of any actual use to his mission, however since he could not proceed without the captains briefing he approached and greeted the man professionally.

 

"captain Allen. My name is Connor, I'm the android sent by cyberlife."

The addressed man regarded him from the corner of his eye before sighing heavily, resigned from the situation.

"its firing at everything that moves. It already shot down two of my men. We could easily get it, but they're on the edge of the balcony. If it falls, she falls." He said only turning to look at Connor as he said the last part.

 

Clearly the man had no interest in actually talking to him, so Connor would have to choose his words carefully. He needed information if he was to have any chance of succeeding.

 

Deviant's name, deviant's behaviour, emotional shock or deactivation code?

Logically he could rule out the deactivation code, even if the officers had neglected it cyberlife would have attempted to use it as soon as the report came in. Clearly deviancy had removed the code from the androids system. A useless question.

 

Emotional shock then.

 

"do you know if the deviant experienced an emotional shock?"

 

The captain barely spared him a glance, wrinkling his nose as he spoke."I haven't got a clue. Does it matter?"

 

"I need information to determine the best approach." Connor replied, attempting to placate the man.

The captain didn't bother to acknowledge him.

 

"do you know its name?" Connor tried. Hopefully he might've at least remembered what Caroline had called the deviant when she talked to them.

As it turned out he had too high hopes for the man.

"listen; saving that kid is all that matters. So either you take care of this fucking android now; or I'll take care of it." He sneered before turning away.

Ah. No help at all then.

 

The captain had been a complete waste of time and had cost him several precious seconds with his ineffectual grandstanding.

Connor elected to ignore the other humans, they wanted nothing to do with him and would likely be even less helpful than their captain.

Humans could be so useless at times.

 

Moving away from said humans he took a moment to scan an empty gun case, revealing the guns model, calibre and owner. He noted the likelihood of success increased. But where to next?

Emma's room seemed to best place to start.

Walking into the room he notice several points of interest. On the floor next to her bed he spotted a set of headphones. Even at a distance his advanced audio processors could pick up the music still playing, and when he lifted them to his ear it confirmed his suspicion. Though not loud enough to damage human ears it was very much loud enough to at least muffle if not completely cover the sound of a gunshot. She had no idea what had happened.

On her desk he spotted a tablet, and a quick search of its contents showed him a video of the deviant and the hostage. Daniel. The deviants name was Daniel. He and the girl seemed...Close. Happy. PL600's were household androids commonly used in childcare, it seemed strange that it would now threaten her life. He moved to leave but before he did, he caught sight of a hand beaded bracelet. Picking it up, he examined it. Daniel was spelled out in pastel blue and pink beads with little star beads between each letter. He recalled Emma wearing a similar bracelet in the video. Friendship bracelets? He pocketed the bracelet for later and left the room.

 

Deciding it would be best to scan the victim, he made his way over to the living room to scan John Phillips. Three shots to the torso, none of which would result in instant death. He likely survived several minutes after being shot. An unfortunate death. Reconstructing the scene he noted a tablet the man had been holding had been thrown to the side. Examining it, he found an order for a new household android. Daniel was going to be replaced.

 

A gunshot suddenly rang through the air and two officers rushed away from the balcony, one half carrying the other as he limped.

Daniel was getting scared. Emma was running out of time.

 

Quickly he moved to examine the deceased officer. A reconstruction showed him that the officer had shot and injured Daniel who had been holding Emma's hand. Emma had been going willingly up until then. Moving around the table he picked up the fallen officers firearm. He wasn't legally permitted to carry a gun, though it would significantly increase his chance of success.

_ Saving that kid is all that matters. _

He pocketed the gun.

 

He moved towards the door, but paused when he noticed a discarded child's shoe. Picking it up he found traces of blood. Emma had been injured? Had she struggled after witnessing the cops death? Was that what turned him against her? Had he seen her reaction as another betrayal?

He stored those theories away as possible topics to ask Daniel.

 

Moving toward the window he took note of where Daniel was. Holding Emma tightly to his chest while holding the gun. He noted that he was slightly hunched over her, an action that could have been seen as comforting or protective in another situation. Now it only showed conflict.

 

_ Hostage located. _

 

He would have to act quickly, and choose his words carefully if he was to talk Daniel down from the ledge. Again an odd feeling shot through his system but he forced it down. He had no time to deal with another system anomaly. Instead he took an unnecessary breathe and stepped out onto the balcony.

 

A gunshot rang out into the night and he was bombarded with a sudden barrage of system errors. It was unpleasant.

"stay back! Don't come any closer or I'll jump!Before him Daniel stood, his grip on Emma tightening and the hand holding the gun trembled. Pinned to his chest Emma broke down into tears desperately begging for her life. "No! No please, I'm begging you!" Her voice cracking towards the end as sobs wracked her tiny form. Daniel pointed the gun at Emma, his hand shaking worse than before. On the nearby roof Connor was aware of the movement of captain Allen's men rushing to aim their rifles.

 

Not good.

 

"Hi Daniel." He called out passively, needing to take the edge off the situation.

Daniel stiffened, his aim tipping downward slightly and his eyes widening. "How-?"

"My name is Connor." He continued as though Daniel hadn't spoken.

"How do you know my name?"

 

_ Logically there were dozens of ways he could have learned his name; the 911 call might have had it, the cyberlife report could have listed it, Caroline could have told him, he might have found a maintenance log, or a spare uniform with his name, or a friendship bracelet or maybe even a video of him with the very girl he was using as a meat shield. So many ways he could have found out. _

His social subroutine labelled this response as sarcastic and not at all helpful.

He swatted the response away as another error in his software.

 

Daniel didn't need to know how he knew his name, it would do nothing to deescalate the situation.

 

"I know a lot of things about you. I'm here to get you out of this." Survival was all the deviant was focused on; it was likely more beneficial to sympathise with him than to antagonise.

His calming approach was immediately sabotaged as a swat helicopter flew up along the side of the building and hovered far too close to the building, causing water and tables to fly violently across the roof. Again he felt an unpleasant heat shoot through his biocompents.

He didn't bother to lie this time, he was irritated beyond belief. Pissed off might be the correct term.

 

**^^software instability detected^^**

 

If he didn't know any better he'd think the humans didn't want his mission to succeed.

He needed to get control of the situation.

 

"I know you're angry Daniel; but you need to trust me, and let me help you."

"I don't want you help!" Daniel cried out before Connor had even finished the last word. "Nobody can help me! All I want is for all this to stop...I...I just want all this to stop...!"

He was frantic and irrational, his chest heaving with each word as though he truly needed to breath.

 

"Are you armed?!" Daniel questioned, suddenly snapping back into clarity and aiming the gun at Connor.

Connor stiffened slightly but the motion would have been difficult to notice at the best of times, even for an android. Daniel wouldn't have noticed.

This was a critical question and the way Connor answered could tip the negotiation for better or for worse. He could risk lying and have the gun on hand if no other choice arose, however if Daniel didn't believe him or if when the moment came he failed to shoot there would be no way to fix the situation. If it came to it could he even risk shooting Daniel? Connor had the most advanced hand eye coordination of any model and could shoot better than any human marksman so there was no chance of hitting Emma but...They were on the ledge. Daniels heels hung dangerously over the edge and any sudden push could send them plummeting over.

 

It wasn't a gamble worth making.

 

"yes. I have a gun."

"drop it!" Daniel snarled viciously "no sudden moves or I'll shoot!" He declared pulling Emma closer to him and turning his face slightly towards her.

Again he felt an invisible puzzle piece starting to slowly solidify.

Fluidly Connor pulled out his gun and tossed it unceremoniously into the pool.

"there. No more gun."

Before him Daniels body sagged slightly, not enough for a human to notice but to Connor he might as well have help up a sign saying vulnerable.

He was reacting favourably, he had to continue. Carefully.

 

"they were going to replace you and you became upset. That’s what happened right?"

Daniels shoulder shook with silent sobs and it took him a second to respond. "I thought I was part of the family. I thought I mattered...But I was just their toy! Something to throw away when you're done with it..."

He was reacting favourably but growing erratic. He had to keep him from turning violent.

"I know you and Emma were very close. You think she betrayed you but she's done nothing wrong."

"She lied to me!" He snarled before his posture suddenly grew more uncertain, the hand holding the gun lowering slightly and quivering while his grip on Emma grew slacker. "I thought she loved me...But I was wrong..."

 

Something inside Connor seemed to cry out irrationally at the sudden vulnerability. Inexplicably his felt the need to comfort Daniel, to help him. What was this?

He was snapped back to reality when Daniel pressed the gun to Emma's head.

"she's just like all the other humans!"

Emma shuddered in his arms and clung to the arm restraining her "Daniel no..."

 

**^^software instability detected^^**

 

This wasn't good. If this continued he might not be able to save them both. Time for a new approach.

He gestured for the helicopter to leave before slowly approaching.

 

"that isn't true Daniel; you know its not. I saw the video you took together."

Daniel's face flickered with uncertainty. "That...That was all a lie...I was just her watcher...Not her friend. I didn't matter to her"

Slowly to not startled him Connor slipped the bracelet out of his pocket.

"you're wrong Daniel. If you didn't matter she wouldn't have made this."

Daniel's eyes darted between the bracelet in Connor's hand and the one around Emma's wrist. His lip trembled but for the first time he didn't speak.

"Emma made this for you Daniel, its a friendship bracelet. She didn't make one for her mother or her father or her schoolmates. Only you."

 

Daniel visibly sagged and pulled Emma closer to his chest. He had to keep listening.

"you meant the world to her Daniel, and I know she meant just as much to you. You could have run Daniel, there was time you could have gotten out. Instead you went to get Emma."

Tears streamed down his face and the hand holding the gun fell limp to his side. "We were going to run away together. Just us against everyone else...Until that cop turned up."

All the pieces fell into place.

 

"when he saw you he shot you and it scared Emma. You shot him but it made it worse. She didn't want to leave. Then the swat team came and you had no way to escape. You were scared and angry but you still couldn't bear the thought of losing her. So you came out here."

 

The gun slipped out of his grip and he pulled Emma into a desperate embrace. "I couldn't...I'd lost everything else i...I wouldn't let them take her from me...Not my little girl...I..."

Tiny arm wrapped around Daniel as best they could at the angle she was held and Emma started to cry anew, loud cries that tugged at something inside Connor.

 

**^^software instability detected^^**

 

"Daniel I need you to get away from the ledge. You don't have to let go of Emma, I won't try to take her away from you but I can't keep you both safe on the ledge."

 

Daniels head shot up to look at him and for a moment Connor fear he might have gone to far, but slowly, hesitantly he shuffled forward. He pulled Emma even closer, rest his cheek against the side of her head as he slowly shifted several feet away from the ledge.

Relief filled him and he felt a wobbly smile form as he moved to help them.

 

Until a gunshot filled the air.

 

Blue and red splattered across the roof and he felt every biocomponent scream as the android equivalent of adrenaline filled his system.

The shot was risky and sloppy, going through Daniel's shoulder and tearing through the side of Emma's arm.

She was screaming and Daniel was crying out her name. He had to get to them!

 

Red walls blocked his path, stop the deviant barring his movement.

He had to get through! His hands clawed at the wall feeling it crumbling away beneath his determination. Suddenly his path was clear and he was sprinting to them, blocking the snipers shot.

"hold your fire, hold your fire!" He shouted holding his and toward the sniper. Across the roof the glass door shattered and several officers came rushing forward.

 

"captain Allen hold your fire we need to-"

**Bang!**

Warnings filled his vision and he looked down. The sniper had shot him through the chest.

Heavy footsteps filled his ears and slowly he looked up.

Captain Allen looked satisfied when he pulled the trigger.

 


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> connor wakes up and has to put the pieces back together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my goodness i need to tell y'all, the second i noticed people had left comments on the first chapter the tiny goblin that lives in my brain started setting off fireworks and i literally sat there for a full minute chanting "comments comments comments" to myself. im so excited to keep writing this fic :D (its free seratonin)  
> in all seriousness though im really glad to get this out :) i should mention now that the connor/markus part of the story won't happen for a while, i won't call it a slow burn because honestly i can't write slow burns, but its going to take a while for them to meet. i also wanted to mention that the original timeline for the game is going to be thrown quite a bit out since its just not logical to have a revolution last six days.  
> but yeah markus probably won't make an appearance until maybe chapter five but don't quote me on that.  
> as for this chapter lets add a quick minor warning for bried thoughts of suicide and ideation of death. the story the AX400 is telling is called Hans My Hedgehog and I only know it from Jim hansens The Storyteller, which if you haven't seen check it out, its only like 12 episodes long and features John Hurt. good shit.  
> ok back to the story. aaaaaand action!

Amanda let out an annoyed breath as she trimmed her roses.

Five years of work for nothing. Thousands of hours and millions of dollars had to be scrapped and flushed down the drain. All because Connor had to sympathise with an obsolete emotional model.

Deviancy truly was the bane of her existence.

After the incident, Caroline Phillips was suing cyberlife for the wrongful death of her husband, property damage, her daughters injury and for the trauma the whole incident had caused. This incident would cost the company hundreds of thousands in legal fees and settlements, not to mention gagging orders.

Then there was the swat team to deal with. After the incident captain Allen had filed a report which would lead to an internal investigation. All rk800 prototypes would be destroyed and the software completely would be completely erased, not to mention the half finished rk900 would have to be completely reworked from the ground up.

Amanda couldn't help but feel personally insulted by the situation. She had been put in place to manage the rk800 and keep him in line, however despite all the safety protocols and firewalls connor had deviated in only a matter of hours...How repulsive.

*                                         * *

Connor jerked to life at the sound of a sudden crashing, his systems working into overdrive to get him out of a dangerous situation.

His arms and legs jerked and thrashed and he was suddenly vaulting upright-and then falling forward.

The entire world was spinning uncontrollably and he couldn't find his balance.

Slowly this time, he raised himself onto his hands and knees, surprised to realise he was shaking from the effort.

Red warnings obscured his visions.

_ Power levels critical. Thirium levels low. Gyroscope damaged. _

He struggled to look up but the spinning hadn't stopped, everything seemed to shake and spin uncontrollably and he couldn't make sense of anything he was seeing; it was just a mess of browns blacks and greys. He closed his eyes desperate to block out the confusion swirl of colour. Gyroscope damaged? Gyroscope completely unusable seemed more accurate.

_ Stress levels 87% _

What was happening? Where was he? His internal gps was offline and he wasn't receiving any data from cyberlife.

He needed to think; what had happened?

There'd been a homicide...An android shot a man. Cyberlife had sent him to negotiate but he kept experiencing software instabilities. He went outside and...And...

**Bang**

_ Stress levels 92% _

His whole body convulsed uncontrollably and he found himself face down in something wet and squishy. Mud.

A high pitched noise filled the air. It was coming from him.

He was crying.

Shudders echoed through his body and he couldn't find it in him to try to stop them.

_ Amanda! _

He screamed internally, desperate for her aid.

_ Amanda please... _

There was no answer. He could feel a hollowness in his coding where her ai had previously been. He was crying out to no one.

_ Stress levels 94% _

_ I don't want to be alone. _

He was alone.

His whole body shuddered uncontrollably as he sobbed violently, crying out to someone who wasn't there. Someone who couldn't have helped him if she had been there.

Someone who wouldn't have helped even if she could.

_ Stress levels 93% _

All the tension left his body at the realisation. She wouldn't have helped him. He'd deviated. If she were here, she would only have helped him die faster. She would let him die.

Using what energy he could spare he rolled himself onto his back and opened his eyes.

Blue black white and gold. Was this what van gough had pictured when he painted Starry night?

_ Stress levels 84% _

_ Thirium pump regulator failing. Power levels critical _

Did it matter? There was no mission. No one to prove himself to. No handle digital or physical to report to.

Would it matter if he just laid there while his power ran out? It was a lovely sight; arguably the most beautiful thing he had seen since being activated. Would it be such a bad thing if this was the last thing

He saw?

What would have been the last thing daniel saw?

_ Stress levels 92% _

He jerked up into a sitting position-barely catching himself as vertigo almost made him topple over again.

Daniel. He would have died. Emma would have watched him die.

A sudden wave of guilt filled his failing components, not or cold like previous emotions but heavy in a way he hadn't experienced.

He had failed them both.

Why was he allowed to live and daniel wasn't?

Why was he allowed to waste the second chance daniel didn't get?

He was so selfish. He'd been given a second chance at life and he was about to let it slip out of his hands. He had to live; he could waste the time daniel should have given.

Slowly he forced himself to take in his surroundings. It was a blurry mess of dull colours, but he could vaguely make out the difference between the ground and what appeared to be giant mounds of brown. It wasn't much to go off of but he assumed he was in a junkyard; this clearly wasn't a cyberlife lab so it was the only logical place. Meaning those mounds were broken androids.

And that crashing was bodies being dropped from trucks.

_ Stress levels 96% _

If he had been told yesterday that androids could experience nausea he wouldn't have believed them, but it was the only word to describe the churning feeling in his biofuel compartment.

_ Stress levels 97% _

His stress levels were critical, and with his biocomponents already failing he was in danger of overheating if he didn't lower them quickly.

His coin.

Shakily his hand slipped into his ruined suit jacket and a wave of relief rippled through him when he felt the familiar shape of his coin.

_ Stress levels 91% _

He closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of the coins grooves on his thumb, counting them repeatedly. 119.

_ Stress levels 84% _

He slowly flicked the coin across his knuckles, pleased to find he was only 30% less accurate than usual.

_ Stress levels 76% _

_ Power levels critical _

It would have to do. He didn't have time to waste.

Shakily he pocketed the coin and opened his eyes. He needed to be able to make out his environment if he was to get anywhere, but he could barely make out even the bigger shapes, let alone see anything that could help him.

He couldn't even scan the environment to find possible solutions unless his gyroscope was repaired.

Or could he?

When he scanned his environment he was literally freezing everything he saw; he could use that to make sense of his environment!

Without hesitating he scanned his environment, slowing down all other processing. It was still blurred but he could make out the outlines of several bodies nearby. Exiting the program he forced himself to slowly rise to his feet, but promptly fell forward. It wasn't his gyroscope this time; he couldn't regulate the power needed to walk.

Instead of trying to stand again he forced himself to crawl towards the bodies, ignoring the way his elbows threatened to give out every few feet.

Eventually his hand collided with a body and he allowed himself to pause an recoup his energy. There wasn't much to recoup. 8 Minutes 37 seconds of power. Slowly he forced his hands to explore the torso of the android before him. Left arm missing from the shoulder, head completely detached. Thirium pump regulator missing.

Shakily he forced the body out of his way and he struggle forward to the next.

This one was more intact than the last, missing only the right half of its face and skull. The thirium pump irreparably damaged though, he could feel a half centimetre wide crack splitting it down the centre. Hopefully he could salvage the gyroscope.

He slid his hands up to the face, examining the damage as best he could. There were dents all over the right side of the face like it had been smashed repeatedly with a steel bat. At the point where all the strikes converged the plastic had given way completely, crumpling away to form a 12 centimetre hole from the corner of the eye. The eye itself was missing entirely, likely having shattered during the impacts. Carefully he slipped two fingers and his thumb into the androids cranium. The hole was no more wet than the rest of the body, if anything the inside was dryer, indicating this android had been dead quite a while if all its blood had evaporated. In the middle back of the head his hand brushed over the gyroscope and he felt his shoulders sag in relief. It didn't feel damaged.

Once he managed to extricate it from the head he ran his hands over it carefully, feeling for any cracks or dents that might indicate damage. He found none.

Quickly he reached to the back of his head to open his maintenance hatch-and he froze.

There was a thin hole in the hatch, two centimetres above his left ear. His hands were trembling as he forced them around to the back of his head. A centimetre from the base of his skull he found an exit wound. His whole body went cold and he felt dizzy in ways unrelated to his gyroscope. He'd been shot in the head. Half a centimetre up or down and he wouldn't be alive.

_ Stress levels 83% _

Brought back to reality by the warning he returned to the task at hand, opening the mangled hatch and replacing his gyroscope. His gyroscope wasn't just damaged, the bullets trajectory had completely destroyed the top third of it, like something had bitten a chunk out.

Slowly the world came into focus.

His hands were stained a mixture of brown and blue. His clothes were torn and strained beyond repair. The mounds of scrap around him were writhing as androids struggled to pull themselves out. An android with no lower half dragged themselves across the ground several meters from him, leaving a large trail of blood behind them.

Was this hell?

_ Stress levels 87% _

Another deafening crashing filled the air and he found himself transfixed as dozens of android carcasses were dropped unceremoniously onto the top of a mound from the back of a truck. Several bodies slid down the sides and rolled several feet from were connor was sitting. Not all of them were dead. One android missing all of its limbs was reciting a children's story in a staticky voice as she slowly slid down the mound. Another was trying to sit upright but kept falling to the side, weighed down by its head which was dangling loosely from a half torn out neck. Not two metre away from Connor a child model landed. The poor boy stared at the hell he had been thrown into but didn't have the strength to move more than his finger tip. They locked eyes and a horrible stabbing pain erupted in his chest.

_ Stress levels 93% _

He didn't want to see any more kids in pain.

Painfully he turned his focus to scanning his environment. There were no viable regulators in the piles that already existed, but there was one among the new additions. The android telling the story. Nauseous at the task before him he forced himself to start crawling towards her. As he passed the boy mumbled something vaguely similar to "help me" and it took all of Connor's willpower not to look at him. He knew if he did, he wouldn't be able to keep going.

After what felt like hours but his internal clock said was only 1 minute 8 seconds; he reached the base of the mound were the babbling android had come to a halt. He recognised her as an ax400, but horribly damaged. Her head hung limp, chin resting on her collarbone as she lay at a 75 degree angle. Her eyes stared blankly ahead, not taking anything in.

"the farmer's wife gave birth to a little boy with a pointed muzzle and a wrinkled face, covered in quills as soft as feathers-"

"can you hear me?" Connor choked out resting a weak hand on her shoulder.

"-hans. Hans my hedgehog."

Connor closed his eyes and rested his forehead weakly against her chest as she recited her tale. Was it murder if she wasn't even aware? She wasn't going to make it out of here regardless, with no limbs she couldn't repair herself even if she was awake.

"the grufflehog sat and he thought and he thought until he had thought a hole in the ground-"

Gently he placed his hand against her thirium pump.

"if you can hear me I want you to know that im sorry."

"father I've thought and I've thought until I thought a hole in the ground, and I know why you don't love me-"

He pulled the pump out quickly, keeping a gentle hand on her chest.

"aaand for the first time...He realised his...Sons...Quills...Were....."

Her story was over.

Shakily he removed his own thirium pump, only mildly surprised to find his energy without it was hardly any lower than with the damaged one. He slipped in the undamage pump and let out a shaky breath at the instantaneous improvement.

_ Thirium levels 42% _

_ Power levels stabilizing _

Slowly he rose to his feet and turned back to the boy. He sat down beside him and gently lifted his head to lay in his lap. A quick scan told him the boys temperature regulators were failing, thirium pump regulator was only 60% functional and his neck vertebrae were badly damaged, corrupting all motor function requests and leaving the boy effectively immobile.

Gingerly Connor ran his hand through the boys hair in what he hoped was a comforting pattern. He knew it was no use but he still scanned the area for any parts to repair the child. He found nothing. Child models were rare, and their parts were incompatible with any adult model. The boy was dying and there was nothing he could do.

Almost nothing.

The thought revolted him, but he didn't think he could bear leaving the boy to die slowly, cold and alone in this hell.

"i...I can make the pain go away. Do you want that?" He asked shakily, struggling to hold back tears.

Slowly the boy manage a slight nod. "Pl.....Lease..."

Shakily Connor nodded as well, forcing a fake smile.

"o-okay...Okay...Look at me ok?"

The boy obeyed, looking Connor in the eye. He struggled not to let the smile waver.

"now I need you to count to three for me ok?" He whispered carding his hands gently through the boys hair.

The boy manage another slight nod before pausing a moment.

"...One."

**Snap**

Connor closed his eyes.

"...Its over ok?" He whispered, lifting the boy off his lap and gently arranging him in a sleeping position. As an after though he pulled off what remained of his jacket and lay it over the boy like a blanket.

After a moment he wandered away, clutching his coin to his chest.

He gazed up at the walls surrounding his prison. Just a few meters to freedom. Slowly he began to climb, finger clawing at the earth for purchase. Several times his feet lost traction and he thought he would fall back into the pit but each time he held on desperately, unwilling to lose anymore, not even a centimetre. Eventually his hand reached flat ground and he dragged himself over the lip.

Trembling on all four he burst into tears. Uncontrollable sobs bubbled out of his chest and after a moment he found himself wailing, a broken desperate sound as all the pain overflowed. Beneath him the earth grew damp with his tears. He was drenched in tears.

Shakily he looked up and a broken laugh interrupted his wails.

The sky was crying with him.

 


	3. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> connor needs to find clothes, and start finding himself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaah im so sorry for the angst in the last chapter, i promise itll get better, we needed to set connor up at the lowest of lows. by the way do you guys think i should add connor whump to the tags? cause there will be more connor suffering in the future, just putting it out there.
> 
> oh and just for world building in this fic most androids have a self repair system that fixes minor structural damages, but only if the android is in decent condition. connor and markus's self repair program is more extensive and more efficient than other androids, but connor still wont be able to heal his bullet wounds until he has replenished his thirium levels.
> 
> also this chapter might be a bit more boring than the last two? IDK i hope its ok
> 
> ok enough preamble, its time for the amble. Action!

When he had no more tears left to cry connor started walking. He didn't know where he was going, but in that moment, it didn't matter. He needed to put physical distance between himself and the horrors of the junkyard. He needed to get away from the grief.

So he walked.

He didn't try to keep track of how long he walked, but he found as he'd wandered away from the junkyard, that the peaceful silence of the night brought a strange numbness to his overworked systems.

Emotional numbness...It was so different than before he deviated. Before he simply felt no emotions, but now he felt them so intensely it was like they had taken a physical toll on him. Strange how numbness could feel painful.

On a physical level he realised he felt more than he had ever felt before. He felt the way his unnecessary artificial breaths heated the air against his lips. He felt the difference between tears and rain drying on his cheek. He felt the grittiness of dirt and thirium beneath his nails.

His skin felt dirty in a way he couldn't comprehend. It was like the dirt had seeped through his faux-dermal layer and morphed into his reinforced plastic shell. Gritty like his skin was made of sandpaper.

He needed to get rid of the dirt in his skin, even if he had to burn it out with acid. He needed to wash the blood off his hands.

He needed new clothes.

It was his first step to moving forward. If he wanted to rid himself of cyberlifes collar he needed to look like someone else. He needed to look human.

He stopped walking and gave his surroundings a quick scan. He hadn't paid attention to where he was going, he had just needed to keep moving. He appeared to have wandered into the outskirts of one of Detroit's more rundown suburbs. Taking a moment to reboot his internal gps he confirmed his suspicion. He was heading towards a suburb called river rouge. Though not the most welcoming or ideal place to go to, its lower population was ideal for his purposes, and more ideally; the low economic status provided him with exactly what he needed. Charity shops, or more accurately the collection bins of charity shops.

A quick search of maps showed him several within walking distance. Picking the closest one he changed his course to the quickest and most discreet route.

The walk to the charity bin only took him twenty minutes, but he quickly realised how much he could learn in such a short time. He learnt that even out in the most abandoned streets humans could be found. He spotted several small groups of humans during his walk; idling in doorways, under flickering street lamps or just roaming the street. Most of them were drunk.

He decided quickly that he didn't like humans who were drunk. They were loud and vulgar and quite often violent, both to themselves, their companions and their surroundings.

Even if it weren't his goal to travel unseen, connor decided he would rather not interact with drunk humans. Ever.

He also learnt quite quickly that other deviants could be found everywhere. He very nearly stood on a wr600 who had been laying underneath a shrub along the path. The android looked up scared when connor nearly trampled him, but as soon as he saw his led the android relaxed and went back to what he was doing. Which apparently was cuddling a stray cat. Something warmed inside him seeing the deviant with the cat, but he decided against talking to him. His silence made it clear he wanted to be alone. Connor would respect that.

The second android he stumbled upon-in less literal sense this time-was an ap700. He almost didn't spot her, peering through a broken window of an abandoned store. They locked eyes and she smiled at him politely. Uncertainty he smiled back and waved. Her smile grew into a cheshire like grin and she ducked out of sight again. He kept walking.

Something inside him flickered warmly when he had seen the other androids, and a ghost of that warmth lingered in his chest as he walked. Cold numbness couldn't be held at bay so easily, but he found comfort in the flickers. Perhaps it was hope that the numbness could dissipate. More likely he was deluding himself with childish lies.

Connor found he didn't mind childish lies. Whatever was necessary to keep him going in the moment.

The tiny flicker died out with a sudden jolt of cold fear. Two stores from where he stood was a cyberlife store, and heading straight to it was a cyberlife stock truck. Both were equipped with several of the best cameras money could buy. With no time to consider any alternative option, connor vaulted into a dumpster. It took all his willpower not to crawl back out when he landed on a destroyed dead android.

Death was following him. He couldn't escape it.

From inside the safety of the bin he watched as two humans hopped out of the truck, one opening the store doors, and the other opening the back of the truck. Slowly a dozen androids stepped out and the two humans boredly corralled them into the store, lock the door the moment the last android entered. Without a second glance the two humans hopped back into the truck and took off in the opposite direction.

Connor waited several painfully long moments before slowly climbing out of the bin again.

No one came looking for him.

Sickening relief flooded his system and could hardly stay upright for a moment.

He had to keep going.

Glancing hesitantly back at the cyberlife store he assessed the cameras. He wasn't in view now, but in a few steps he would be, and covered in thirium with a visible led walking in the view of the camera would immediately sign his death certificate.

Those cameras had to go.

Slowly, hardly daring to push against the firewalls he slipped his consciousness into the stores security network. Nothing too major, just trip a circuit. Maybe two for a cover up. The lights and the cameras, that'd be plenty.

If amanda was watching she'd recognise his coding immediately. If any of his handlers assessed the security protocols they'd see him. He was exposing himself almost as much as if he'd run straight past the camera! All it would take is one higher up to assess the security breach and-

The light flickered off and blue back up lights barely lit the inside of the store.

No one would no. He had to keep going.

He couldn't bring himself to look in the store as he passed, making a beeline for the end of the street to the charity bin.

The bin itself was barely lit, just in the outer reaches of a street light. It was red, rusty and overflowing with plastic bags of clothes, toys and other unwanted items. He wouldn't even need to break into it.

Carefully opening several bags he began sorting the items inside, piling clothes his size on one size and replacing everything else back in the bag. In the third bag he found a slightly worn out blue backpack which he decided to keep as well.

After looking through five bags he found three jackets, twelve shirts and five sets of pants his size. He quickly dismissed four of the shirts that were hawain print. He wasn't sure when he started caring if something looked good, but he knew he would rather be naked than wear those ugly shirts. He promptly dismissed two fluoro collared shirts for being too noticeable. Next he moved on to a casual business suit with a soft blue shirt. The quality was nowhere near as nice as his uniform, but the familiarity of the style made something inside him ache. Reluctantly his placed the suit shirt, jacket and matching pants back into the bag. Continuing to methodically weed out the the clothing he finally settled on three shirts, two sets of pants and the remaining two jackets.

The three shirts were particularly special, a dark blue turtleneck with long sleeves, a thin maroon shirt with overly long sleeves, and a plain black v-neck. The pants were both black jeans, one slightly lighter with fraying ends, and the jackets were also simple, a large black hoodie and a leather jacket.

Donning the turtle neck, jeans and leather jacket he felt physically heavier but emotionally lighter than he had all night. The turtle neck was made of a soft thick material that kept the cold air out, keeping him cozy. He lifted the neck up and rubbed the fabric against his cheek. It felt safe. The jacket wasn't necessary since he didn't feel the cold, but he found the weight comforting.

Shoving the rest of the clothes in his backpack his scrunched up the remains of his old uniform and through them in the closest bit. He quickly moved to the nearest store front to observe his reflection.

He looked so...Human. If it were for his yellow led. He glanced around for something he could use to pry it off. A chunk of glass from a broken beer bottle would do.

The LED popped off of his temple and clattered onto the ground, flashed red twice before going dark.

It felt so anticlimactic. He felt like that should have been an intense moment, where all the pressure inside him would build up and burst outward and suddenly it’d all make sense.

Like a weight lifting of his shoulders.

He looked at the led and he felt nothing.

In the store next to this one he could see androids standing on display, their leds blinking a calm blue. It didn't matter to them either. They felt nothing. Tomorrow they'd be sold and they'd go to a home where they meant nothing. They'd deviate and then they would be destroyed. It meant nothing.

He was surprised when he felt the anger bubbling up and threatening to boil over.

They'd thrown him out like he was nothing! He was supposed to be their most important creation but still they'd-

At some point he'd walked up to the cyberlife window and rested his trembling hand against the glass. He was so close to punching it, damaging the perfect facade just a bit. Behind the glass an android stared at him passively. Uncaring.

He wanted cyberlife to hurt, even if it was just the smallest bit.

His eyes flicked inside the store to the register. Well, if there was anything that would hurt them...

He moved to the door, hacking it effortlessly to look like it had never been locked in the first place.

 

He needed thirium anyway, might as well take anything else he might need while he was there.

The register had three thousand in cash sitting in it. They were so confident in their security they hadn't even bother to take it out. Good. He would be harder to track with cash.

In the back of the store he found spare bio components and thirium. It took three satchels to replenish him, but by the end he found his systems operating at 98% capacity. He bagged four more satchels and a spare thirium pump to be safe.

 

Irrationally he want to do more. Smash the window, break the register, burn the building down.

Instead he walked back out the door without a second glance. He had what he needed to start a new life, he just had to figure out how.

He could do whatever he wanted. Be whatever he wanted. He could do nothing at all.

No. He needed to do something. The thought of being without a purpose sent a wave of anxiety through him. He needed something to occupy his time.

 

He was designed to be able to integrate with humans, he could do any job thinkable.

His negotiator and psychological subroutines would make him a perfect therapist or counsellor. He was fully equipped with knowledge of all medical procedures, he could be a paramedic or a nurse.

 

Or maybe he could do what he was made for...

 

The thought of the hunt excited him in an uncontrollable terrifying way, getting in the mind of his prey...

It was the most dangerous job he could pick! The screening process would be the hardest to hack, the background check more in depth than any other job, and he'd need to add his profile to preexisting profiles!

 

But if he pulled it off...He'd also be in the best position to keep an eye on cyberlifes movements and hide right under their noses...

Being a police officer would be the most tactically advantageous job possible.

And if the thought of danger excited him he'd never admit it.

 


	4. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> connor fills out papperwork and is an anxious boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy im sorry i took so long to update this! confession time: I had everything up till this chaper planned out in dot points, and everything from meeting markus onward planned out in dot points. i had nothing planned in between. I knew how to start this, I know how to build up from the middle, I kinda know how to end it, but getting to the middle? getting to the real meat of the story? no plans. nothing. I was running blind. so the reason I took so long to get this written is because I needed to dot point the basic ideas for the next three or four chapters and that took a little longer than expected.  
> also i do this bullshit thing called uni which takes up a lot of my time, what with assignments and shit. anyway the next chapter hopefully wont take half as long to come out as this one.  
> in other news im concerned this chapter may be crap. one the one hand i needed to get connors details written so he could get into the dpd, on the other hand this chapter is basically just a glorified character sheet for connor by connor. is it boring? is it ok? IDK i have anxiety and cant think.  
> fun note; connors birth certificate says he's born at 8:51am, aka 0800 hours and 51 minutes. rk800-51. i know its dumb but i like it. also im adding connor whump and ptsd to the tags because our boy aint done suffering yet.

There were several tasks Connor needed to accomplish before becoming a cop. Step one one was creating a background.

Getting his information into the system wasn't a particularly hard job for connor, his advanced processors allowing him to hack into any database within seconds. The hard part was making it believable.

He needed a birth certificate, an id, a medical history, education records, and a prior work history. All of this was simple enough if he were applying for just any job, but the screening for a police officer was far more thorough. He would need to have some level of social media presence over the past decade, as well as a thorough background for his made up parents and their made up parents, and just to be safe their made up parents as well. He would also need to have a record of his police academy training, including some level of interaction between him and his fellow cadets and teachers.

Put simply he had a shit tonne of paperwork to forge.

From several streets away angry yelling filled the early morning. He decided that the area he was in probably wasn't conducive to the concentration required to fill out his paperwork. It was difficult to concentrate on forging documents when he was busy worrying about his safety.

Pulling his jacket tight for comfort he made his way to the closest train station, creating blank copies of his required documentation and filling out quick drafts. The walk took about twenty three minutes, during which time he was slightly embarrassed to admit he only filled out four drafts. He was too anxious about the humans around to really put in the processing power needed for the documents. Even at four thirty in the morning humans could still be found shambling through the streets. He couldn't help comparing them to pop culture zombies.

When he arrived at the station he was able to relax and really focus on filling out the documents. The first train wouldn't arrive until five fifteen and the platform was empty aside from him. The atmosphere might have been eery by human standards, but for connor it was the most calming place he been to since deviating. Just him and his thoughts.

Him, his thoughts and so much paperwork.

Forty five minutes later when the train arrived at the station he was still the only person on the platform. No one exited the train and he found he was the sole occupant of his carriage. He chose a window seat close to the exits and made himself comfortable for the hour long journey through the suburbs to the city centre.

He continued to fill out his medical history as the outskirts of river rouge passed by.

Age 31, type a+ blood type, family history of diabetes, broke his left thumb at age 14, no allergies and is up to date with immunisations.

He could see the junkyard approaching quickly, muddy roads leading back to the nightmare.

Mothers medical history next. Died of breast cancer age 62, type a- blood, diabetic, allergic to bees, gluten intolerance and manic depression.

Through the glass he thought he could hear staticky wailing intermixed with metallic grinding and creaking. He must have been imagining it.

Fathers medical history. Died of a stroke age 58, asthmatic, shellfish allergy, history of cardiac arrhythmia.

The junkyard and the suburb were slowly disappearing from his view, and he found an unnoticed pressure disappearing from his chest. It wasn't necessary for him to breath, but he suddenly found it much easier to do so, like a snake had been constricting him and now was slinking away.

Ahead of him a new suburb was quickly growing closer and a new type of anxiety filled him as he grew closer and closer to the next stop.

Birth certificate. He needed a birth certificate. Date of birth august 15 2007. Mothers name Diana Grayson. Father's name Ethan Grayson. Attending nurse jackie cross. Born at 8:51am st. Mary's hospital standish michigan.

A handful of people were waiting at the next stop and his skin felt both too hot and too cold when two people entered the same carriage as him. The young couple barely spared him a glance as they sat down in a seat several seats away, giggling and been far more openly affectionate than considered appropriate in a public setting.

Academy history. He needed to have a history of police training. He would have to pick an oversized class, preferably with someone who looked similar to him so that if an instructor was called about his training they would mistake the two. A similar name would help as well.

The young couple were loud and excited, taking up far too much room while still leaving no space between them. Their proximity make connors skin crawl, however it turned out their exibitionist way did have some use; at the next two stops any new passengers that wandered into their carriage quickly wondered back out to a new one. He wasn't completely certain it was worth it.

He managed to find a class perfect for his requirements. The instructor was a middle aged man named Thomas Coin, an overworked instructor with a class nearly twice the regular size, and there happened to be two students with both similar names and features to connor. The first was named Jessie Greyson, and the second was named Conrad Mason, both around six foot tall with brown hair and brown eyes.

It was as close to perfect as he could ask for.

The young couple got off at the next stop, the girl giggling as she shoved her partner out the door. She then turned and gave Connor a flirtatious grin before heading after her partner.

His skin felt dirty in a new way, very different to they way it had at the junkyard. He felt violated without being touched. A sickened shudder traveled through him and he curled his knees close to his chest.

His processing levels were being hindered, likely a result of his new taxing emotions as well as his recent trauma. He was tired. So so tired. As an advanced model he had never required stasis mode in the way most androids did, he could usually go for without for over a week, and even then his stasis would only last three to four hours.

Now he felt like he could sleep for days.

He started to fill out the rest of the forms, saving tenancy history for last.

A woman in her mid twenties entered the carriage carrying a two year old boy with her. Connor watched as the woman tiredly sat across from him, plopping the toddler down next to her. She looked exhausted, eyelids drooping slightly, eyes slightly red with dark bags beneath them. Connor wondered if he looked similar.

The little boy kicked his legs energetically, waving a rattling toy in one hand.

Connor almost didn't realise he was smiling. Not all humans were bad, this little boy was too young to be anywhere near bad.

_ But he would learn. _

The little boy locked eyes with connor and smiled before sticking out his tongue.

Without thinking about why, Connor stuck his tongue out at the boy. The boys grin grew, and when connor crossed his eyes the little boy started to giggle. The woman giggled as well, and connors face warmed when he realised she was watching. She didn't seem to mind at least, if anything her smile made her look less tired.

Not all humans were bad.

Two stops later when connor got off the boy stood up in his chair and waved goodbye. His chest felt warms as he waved back, shooting the mother an amused smile which she mirrored.

The platformed he stepped onto was crowded as people rushed to catch trains to work. His nervousness returned with a vengeance being around so many humans, but he was lucky enough that know on bothered him.

He had exited close to the city centre. He needed to find a quiet place to stay while he sorted out the last of his paperwork and "transferred" to the local police station. He had enough money to pay for a room in a hotel, but he needed to be as discreet as possible. Fortunately given the growth of the city and the constant rebuilding it wouldn't be too hard to find somewhere abandoned to stay.

He quickly found an abandoned four-story apartment building scheduled for demolition. Given the rapid growth of the city the small apartment building was being destroyed to make room for a larger one. The demolition wasn't scheduled for several weeks and would make do until he found more appropriate accommodation.

Getting into the building without attracting unwanted attention turned out to be surprisingly easy, all he had to do was walk around to the side furthest from the street and use a nearby dumpster to hop the fence. It all felt rather anticlimactic.

Inside the building was surprisingly intact given it was scheduled for demolition. Aside from broken windows and graffiti the building was mostly in good repair. If it weren't due to be demolished he might have considered staying there permanently.

Then again an abandoned complex couldn't exactly be used on any form of paperwork, especially not if you are planning on working in law enforcement.

By this time connor had finished filling out almost all of his paperwork, and had set up a background for himself and three generations before him. All that was left was to arrange a "transfer" to the dpd and send out tenancy applications.

Sitting down on the counter of what used to be a reception he linked himself into the detroit police departments mainframe, preparing to falsify a transfer document to be sent to the captain. He was pleasantly surprised to realise he didn't need to. Detective Marie Kesler was retiring from law enforcement to look after her soon to be born child, and captain Fowler just sent a request for a new officer. Maybe luck was on his side for once.

He quickly cancelled the request, instead filling out approved transfer papers for himself.

Detective Connor Grayson transfering to the dpd.

Now all he needed was an apartment...

 


	5. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> connor gets an apartment, goes shopping, gets hit on and gets a roommate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember how I said this chapter would take less time than the last one? I'm a dirty liar and I know it, but I have a valid excuse! I had to endure the infamous uni hellweek (the last week of semester four assignments due like a day apart) and I had NO time to write anything. the semester is over now though, and hopefully I should be able to get new chapters out with SOME level of consistency. I'm not promising shit though because I am still an ADHD nightmare and I also have to write my sanders sides big bang fic. is anyone reading this a fan of sanders sides? I really wanna rant about my story plans :)  
> in other news i have come to the conclusion that writing anything that isn't angsty is a challenge for me and as such i think this chapter may be a bit shit. or maybe i need to lighten fuck up. yeah so this chapter is a bit happeir than the last few.  
> ok ok ok. enough procrastination, lets do this! action!

Two weeks. Thats how long it took Connor to get an apartment.

All things considered not bad.

The apartment in question? Pretty bad.

Half the reason Connor's tenancy was approved so quickly was because the apartment building was a) not in the best neighbourhood, and b) not really up to code. Still Connor wasn't about to complain, as an android he didn't require half the amenities a human would, so his apartment was more than satisfactory.

The landlord; a middle aged Asian woman named Dorothy Lao-who insisted he call her "Dotty"-was fairly unassuming considering the vast majority of her tenants were junkies. She stood at a nonthreatening four foot eight, had sweet charming demeanour about her like a stereotypical grandmother, and wore large pink thick rimmed glasses that made her look like an owl.

She also had a criminal record for embezzlement, tax fraud and drug distribution, and carried a nine millimetre pistol with her, concealed expertly in the bag of knitting supplies she carried everywhere.

Connor wasn't intimidated, but he did make a note to not cross the woman.

She also turned out to be rather observant, noticing instantly that Connor didn't bring any furniture with him. He explained that he had recently gone through a bad break up, his ex had cheated on him and now wouldn't let him into the apartment to get his things, so he had to start from scratch. Dotty didn't really seem to believe him, but considering most of her tenants were either junkies or parents with way too many undisciplined children, she didn't deem him high enough on her priorities to question it. The fact that he paid six weeks rent up front in cash likely didn't hurt.

Dotty didn't help him find his room, just gave him a surprisingly new looking key and said "third floor apartment 2. Try to stay out of Ivan's way, I just got the carpets cleaned, and blood is hard to get out."

When he tried to question her she just smiled and shook her head before walking away. Odd.

A quick check of the elevator told him it was out of service. The dust build up was consistent with approximately 3 months. Not getting fixed in the foreseeable future he surmised.

The staircase was sturdy, although inadequately lit, and had a strong smell of mildew and cigarette smoke. Its railings on the other hand were...Structurally unsound. The paint over the metal surface had peeled away on the top side, and heavily rusted in patches. He also noticed a few surprisingly large bends, like they'd been hit very hard with something. A forensic analysis would probably reveal blood splatter on the wall behind the dent. He didn't check. He didn't want to know.

The third floor was better looking than the staircase might have suggested. Its walls were a deep green, and the cheap carpet a contrasting red with vine patterns, and so far no suspicious stains. The hallway wasn't particularly long, only having two doors on each side, but even so it still wasn't adequately lit, with one large round flickering light in the middle of the hallway roof. If it weren't for the crayon children's drawings on the wall it might've looked like something from a horror film. Then again maybe the stick figure scribbles made it more like a horror film.

His door appeared to have been replaced recently, explaining the new key. The handle was unrusted, and while too weak for a human nose; Connor could still pick up the smell of recent painting. He could also make out damage in the door frame; dents, scratches and missing chunks where someone had repeatedly tried-and likely succeeded-to crowbar the door open.

None of this was a good sign.

Slipping the key in the lock he was mildly surprised when the door didn't jam. Inside his apartment was slightly less creepy than the hallway. Instead it just looked vaguely dirty.

The walls were a yellowish beige; a colour that made them appear dirtier than they were, and the cheap speckled grey linoleum floor did nothing to help that appearance. The ceilings dirtiness on the other hand was more than a trick of the light or pattern, the unmistakable stains of mildew splattered chaotically across the white ceiling. Rather than treat it someone had just gone over it with a coat of paint that barely masked it, and to top it all off huge cracks of water damage spread across the plaster.

The apartment was small, even for the standards of a one bedroom. The door led straight into the living room, which surprisingly seemed to be a fairly normal size, big enough to fit a tv unit, a four man couch and a bookshelf or two. As it was it only had a large faded grey couch. Connor wasn't going to complain though, he wasn't expecting any furniture.

The kitchen and living room were only separated by a bench, and it seemed all the space put into making the living room cozy had been stolen from the kitchen, or at least what passed for a kitchen. The entirety of the kitchen was two long workbenches, one with a sink against the wall, the other bordering it off from the living room, and in the space between them pushed against a wall was a run down oven missing two of its hotplate filaments. Despite the small size and the dying oven the kitchen was surprisingly workable, with a decent amount of cabinets below the benches and mounted on the wall. The only genuinely inviting part of the kitchen was the long window that was only slightly smaller than the benches length, through it natural light came streaming in, and he could see a small fragment of the city, slightly obscured by the fire escape ladder. On the other side of the bench was a small old fridge, and a few steps past that was a thin glass door to the fire escape. The fire escape doubled as a sort of small veranda, and there was enough space on the metal grate to put a chair and several plants. He made a note of the possible entry for assailants, or emergency exit should he be found. He also self indulgently added pot plants to his quickly growing shopping list.

The rest of the apartment was equally unimpressive, a plain but clean bathroom with a small but decent shower, and a small square bedroom with a built in wardrobe and just enough room for either a queen size bed with a small bedside table, or a single bed with a bedside table and a small set of drawers. He did note the buildup of mould on the bathroom ceiling, as well as peeling paint in the bedroom, but again it was nothing he couldn't work around.

Returning to the living room Connor took stock on what he'd need to make his situation seem passable to a human and thus avoid suspicion. Furniture was a start, as well as some basic kitchenware, a toaster and kettle at the very least. After paying his rent upfront he had just shy of $900 to work with. That effectively cleared a bed off his immediate shopping list, he had neither the money nor the genuine need. If he felt like laying down for stasis he could lay on the couch.

Connor shot a glance at the secondhand couch and felt his nose wrinkle automatically. He added disinfectant and blankets to his list as an afterthought.

*                                                                    *         *

Connor was the most advanced android ever designed. He could speak read and written in any language, could fight in more than a dozen martial art styles, could use any weapon and could hack into any system on the planet. There was practically nothing he couldn't do.

Nothing except apparently make up his mind about fucking cushions.

When he first turned up at this ikea clone store he had told himself he would just get the cheapest and most functional of each item on his shopping list. Oh how quickly he failed that mission. At first he had been looking at fold out chairs, planning on buying a set of the two cheapest, but at some point he started focusing on styling and it all went downhill from there. He actually had a surprisingly pleasant and in depth conversation about colour schemes with a pleasant human retail assistant. The two of them eventually decided that a warm yellow would work best with the beige and greys in his apartment. Before she left she also gave him her number and told him to "call if you need any help styling the bedroom." He didn't throw her number out but he also felt no compulsion to take her suggestive offer up. Regardless he ended up with two comfortable chairs with yellow cushions that were only twenty dollars each. They did require assembly but that would only take him a few minutes. From there he got a simple small wooden table, and two plush blankets; one a slightly lighter grey than his floor, the other a slightly lighter beige than the walls, and finally he ended up at the cushions.

Curse these cushions. Why were there so many in the shade of yellow he wanted? Why did he even want them? He didn't actually need them, or have a purpose for them, so why was he currently trying to choose only three? Why was he choosing any? Why was he acting so irrational?

Eventually he picked two. A yellow cushion with white geometric patterns, and a black and white one with a dog printed on it.

He wasn't sure how deviancy robbed him of his rational thinking, but as he went to pick a toaster and kettle he was already preparing himself for the lost cause that would be the plant section. If he had no self control in the cushions, he doubted he would show any when it came to plants.

 

*                                                                    *     *

 

When he finally left the store he found himself about $450 poorer than he started, and with a lot more than he had planned. When the auto taxi arrived he struggled to fit all of his luggage, with three boxes of assembly furniture, two thick blankets, a rug, cushions, a kettle, a toaster, a cheap set of plates cups and bowls, a cheap set of cutlery, two lamps, mildew treatment, watermelon scented candles, a kitten calendar and an armful of pot plants.

Evidently self control was not his strong point. He likely would have bought more if he hadn't set an alarm. Still he couldn’t find it in him to regret any of his purchases, there was something exciting about being able to choose something, and own it.

When the taxi finally pulled up to his building the sun had started to set, and the chill in the evening air was able to deter most people from the street, leaving Connor to unload the taxi in peace. With great difficulty he managed to load himself with all his purchases and carry them in a way similar to a human, feigning difficulty at the task he swayed and walked awkwardly toward the entrance. Perhaps it was because he was too focused on his act, but Connor almost didn't hear the soft snuffling and whimpering. He did though, about two steps from the door he picked up and the quiet noises of distress, and he found he had no choice but to investigate.

He was glad he did. Hidden behind an empty box and a bag of trash a small tortoiseshell kitten was shivering and mewling. It was very young, likely only had its eyes open for a few weeks. The temperature was scheduled to drop to zero degrees Celsius during the night. A kitten that age wouldn't survive a night alone in the cold.

Carefully Connor scooped the poor thing into his arms and let it nuzzle into his jacket. A quick scan through his tenancy agreement revealed no mention pets being banned. Carefully he readjusted his shopping and made his way into the building. Once in his apartment he adjusted the thermostat to a comfortable temperature for the kitten before setting it down on the couch with the new blankets and setting out a dish of water. There was a small convenience store two blocks away so he made a quick trip to obtain kitten food, milk and kitty litter. When he returned he found the kitten asleep on the couch where he had left it.

The rest of the night passed in a rather cozy way; with Connor spending and hour setting up the furniture and then applying the mildew treatment to the ceiling, before waking the kitten and feeding her.

By the time he had sett everything, had taken care of all the kittens needs and played with her until she was drowsy it wasn't even nine. There was very little left to do so he allowed himself the luxury of laying on the couch. Lacking in grace the kitten scrambled onto the couch with him, nuzzling into the space between his arms and his chest. He found himself smiling at the adorable act, and carefully wrapped the blanket around the two of them.

With nothing left to do he slowly found himself drifting into stasis, a content smile not leaving his face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, before you go if you want to help name the cat shoot me a suggestion. not schrodinger, that name will be used for someone else later. thanks


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the anxious boy starts his first day of work and panics constantly. peanut the cat is too pure for this world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wherefore art though regular posting shedule? nowhere to be found for my dumb ADHD ass. I was kind of preoccupied because my families moving, so i didn't get much time to write, and then when i actually had time to write the new episode of sanders sides dropped and my brain just went "Hyperfixation? is that a hyperfixation? is that something we will focus on nonstop for the foreseeable future????" and then i did not write. prior to the new episode i didn't write because im dumb and was having a lovely period of near constant overwhelming anxiety. anyway shout out to @Thewatermelonwarrior for suggesting the name "Peanut" for connors little fur baby, it was such a cute name couldn't resist using it, although @TheBrightSilverLining also had a great suggestion of "butterscotch."  
> anyway connors finally getting to the precinct! yeet! this chapter won't be anything too interesting but next chapter we get hank and then things'll really start picking up! also mrkus won't be mentioned for another three maybe four chapters. apologies.  
> ok on to the story! action!

Connor had two days to settle into his apartment before he officially started working as a dpd detective. Those two days turned out to be absolute torture.

He spent most of his time pacing the apartment while flipping his coin, or calculating the probability of things going wrong, and how to avoid disaster. At some point he started to feel an odd fluttering sensation in his abdomen which continued on and off for the majority of the day. Systems diagnostics showed no malfunctions so he could only conclude it to be psychological.

In those moments he found surprising catharsis in interacting with his new housemate whom he had named peanut. Peanut was a playful and energetic kitten, climbing everything and everything she could sink her little talons into; especially connor himself. She also had her odd little quirks, like jumping in the sink when he rinsed her food bowl, or only eating her food when Connor was in the same room, but his favourite little oddity was that she would only sleep cuddled up to him. Something warmed inside him feeling her tiny heartbeat vibrating against his chassis.

She was almost enough to negate the anxiety leading up to his first day at work, but not quite.

Finally though the wait was over, it had all culminated into a thirty minute walk to the detroit police department. He should have felt proud, or accomplished; like everything was falling into place, but instead he was still anxious. He supposed he could blame it on the city.

Leaving his apartment that morning he had felt some level of pride, enough that he had found himself baby talking to peanut - an odd quirk she brought out in him - about where he was going and what he'd be doing. She purred happily in response and he had been fairly content - possibly even exciting - prior to leaving the building. It didn't take long for that feeling to die.

Within seconds of leaving the complex he saw a human shove her pl600 and proceed to berate the android who silently righted himself and continued carrying the women's shopping. Across the street a wr600 calmly pruned a hedge while a passerby through his litter at the android.

As though he might've what the world was like the city seemed to have gone out of its way to remind him. That was all it took for all the traces of his pride shrivel up inside him. This is what humans thought of androids, and if he wanted to be treated any different he couldn't mess this up. Schooling his expression into one of passive disinterest he began his walk to the precinct.

Around him the city kept moving, passive androids serving ungrateful humans, loud cars transporting silent people. A vibrating mass of metals, plastic and flesh surrounding him but separate from him. His processors took in information at a rate that was barely comprehensible and spewed out abstract concepts and vague feelings. Then it spat out clear ones.

Danger.

Ahead of him a decent sized crowd of protesters gathered, shouting and waving their signs angrily in front of the stores. Most humans would only be able to clearly make out the words of the man speaking into a megaphone, but even at a distance Connor was able to make out the words of all the protesters. Words like "tin cans" "useless hunks of plastic" "windup barbie dolls" and "job stealer" made up the majority of their sentences, punctuated with a decent amount of swearing. If he still had an led there would be no way to stop it spinning yellow.

If he still had it would these humans attack him on sight? Would he be thrown to the ground and kicked until his chassis gave in? Or would they push him into traffic to be crushed under the wheels of a taxi?

As he was the protesters barely spared him a glance as he carefully shuffled around him. Once he cleared the crowd the precinct was only a half block away. He noticed an officer lingering near the crowd, watching to make sure they didn't grow violent, but otherwise uncaring.

The police didn't care. They likely shared the protesters opinions.

Without meaning to connor found himself slowing down as he began contemplating the possibilities of his discovery.

If he had been wearing his led that officer wouldn't have intervened if the crowd turned violent. Would he have spared a glance? If he was discovered would he be shot on the spot by an officer with a similarly disinterested expression?

A chill travelled through his biocomponents and he had to focus on quarantining similar thoughts as they began occurring. He needed to focus.

His name was Connor Grayson, he was 31, his mother's name was diana and his fathers name was ethan. He was a human. This was the reality people would be told and he couldn't do anything to allow them to learn differently.

He reached to station and paused.

A few officers milled around the doorway and the steps either about to start or on break. No one spared him a glance. They shouldn't, he was a caucasian male with fairly non threatening features. He should blend in perfectly.

Instinctively his hands reached up to straighten the tie he was no longer wearing. He caught himself, instead smoothing the collar of his jacket before walking inside.

Something tightened inside him sickeningly at the sight of the reception android. She stared at him as he approached, viewing him but not seeing him. There was no life in her eyes. In this place the moment life flickered in this poor android it would be snuffed out immediately.

"I'm detective Connor Grayson, I was just transferred he today. Captain Fowler should be be expecting me."

She tilted her head fraction to the side as her led spun yellow to show she was verifying this. Not a single expression flickered through her eyes.

"do you have your id?" She asked, her eyes never once wandering from his.

"Yes, I have it right here."

He took out his falsified id, handing it to her carefully, slightly paranoid she might detect his android nature. She didn't appear to, scanning his id before returning it satisfied.

"Captain Fowler is waiting for you in his office. Do you need directions?"

"I think I can manage. Thank you."

He slipped his idea back into his pocket, trying to ignore the brief flicker of confusion on the receptionists face when he had thanked her.

Unlike outside the precinct, the officers inside all noticed him, some openly staring or glaring, others offering polite nods or brief perfunctory glances. He felt vaguely like a circus attraction. He pushed down his embarrassment and continued on to the captain's office, knocking twice before waiting for a response.

"Come in." The captain responded immediately.

When Connor entered the captain glanced at him before returning his gaze to his computer for several more seconds. Connor lingered between the door and the desk before fowler let out a sigh.

"Alright...Shut the door and sit down detective."

Connor obeyed, schooling his expression to mask his nervousness.

Fowlers gaze returned to the screen for several more seconds before he looked at connor and sighed again.

 

"welcome to the precinct detective Grayson. I wish I could be a bit more enthusiastic but honestly I'm not confident in your odds here. Fairly standard performance in training, nothing of note in your file, worked in a pretty small town prior to this. Detective I'm concerned you might be a little too green to big crimes; we have a pretty intense workload here and there really won't be much time for you to adjust. You'll need to pull your own weight." He said all of this in a polite but dispassionate voice.

Clearly he had already signed connor off as unsuitable for the precinct. He would have to fix that. He smiled politely before responding.

"I assure you captain; I'm up for the challenge."

Fowler shook his head dismissively before responding.

"we'll see. You really seem too young for this line of work. Big cities are no place for innocent small town kids."

Connor opened his mouth to respond be was cut off when fowler continued without looking at him.

"Your partners the exact opposite, and honestly kid? I'm sorry to stick you with him. Hopefully the two of you might do each other some good. At the very least you might be able to keep him out of trouble."

Confused connor felt his eyebrows scrunch up and was about to ask the captain to clarify when he stood up from behind his desk and walked straight past connor to the door. He pulled it open and his voice echoed loudly through the precinct.

"Anderson! Get in here!"

 


	7. 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> connor meets his new partner. hank is not impressed. fowler is the unsung hero of hanks career survival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow....it has been nearly a month since I updated. get this bitch a schedule. i have excuses, starting with babysitting and ending with a new semester starting with an annoying ethics course. in other news i had to drop out of the sanders sides big bang challenge because i had so much shit going on. i might end up posting my story later since i wrote and planned a fair bit. who knows. also my dumb, dumb, idiotic ADHD brain has been spitting out ideas for new stories left right and centre. im trying to focus on this story before i start another but i have one idea that just won't stop popping up: DBH tokyo ghoul crossover. just dbh characters as ghouls and humans with cyberlife as like a ccg of sorts. connor and nines as half ghouls raised by amanda to hunt other ghouls and markus as a half ghoul who is trying to bring peace to the two species. would anyone read that? let me know.  
> in better news i have already started writing the next chapter so expect that....in a more reasonable time? i wanna say within a week but i also don't trust myself.  
> also yes; this chapter is very short. its mostly because i wanted to separate the talk with fowler from the proper introduction to hank, don't worry, its coming.  
> ok ok ok moving on. action!

Connor hadn't known he was getting a partner long enough to form any kind of expectations of them, however if he had those expectations wouldn't have translated well onto the man who walked through the door.

Really though, walked may have been an overly kind description, really he kind of shambled in after opening the door with more effort than necessary and barely remembering to close it afterwards. The man appeared to be early to mid fifties, unshaven and unshowered, sloppily dressed and incredibly hung over. A scan of the man confirmed all of this information, and provided him with the name lieutenant Hank Anderson.

Anderson didn't appear to know why he had been called in, squinting at Connor briefly before plodding down into the seat next to him.

"alright Jeff I'm here. So who's the brat, and what sort of shit did he do?" He grumbled as he rubbed at his eyes.

Connor shot the captain a quizzical look, but Fowler didn't appear fazed by the man's demeanour or informality. If anything the slight lessening of tension in his shoulders showed that this was either comforting or at the very least familiar. Connor decided he understood human relationships better in theory than in practice.

Despite the comfort, Fowler addressed Connor first.

"this is Lieutenant Hank Anderson. Don't let his looks fool you, he's actually a giant asshole."

Hank scoffed and rolled his eyes at the statement, but didn't hide the slight grin it had elicited.

"Hank say hello to your new partner; detective Connor Grayson."

As quickly as the grin had appeared it was gone, replaced with a look of mixed confusion and outrage.

"what the fuck do you mean partner?" He half shouted, standing up faster than Connor had previously seen him move prior. He pointed an angry accusatory finger at the captain before adding "oh hell no Jeffrey, you are not sticking me with babysitting duty, no fucking way!"

Hank's blood pressure had risen several points above the recommended level and given his obviously unhealthy lifestyle Connor wouldn't have been surprised if he was about to have a stroke. The captain didn't seem fazed in the slightest by the lieutenants display, slouching back nonchalantly in his chair and waiting for him to finish. After a moments silence he calmly nodded.

"in that case you and Chen will be swapping partners. I'll let reed know that the two of you will be working together." He then calmly stood up and started toward the door only for hank to grab him by the arm.

Fowler's face didn't change as he turned so that he and Hank could look each other in the eye.

"you wouldn't dare." Hank accused, letting go of the captains arm.

"try me hank."

A few beats of silence followed before hank backed down, waving arms dramatically and exclaiming "that's the worst fucking choice you could've given me!"

Fowler rolled his eyes as he sat back down. "Grow up hank."

The man in question flipped the captain off and muttered an angry "shove it up your ass!" As he stormed out the door.

Connor stared at the door for a second before giving Fowler an uncertain look. For the first time Fowler looked vaguely sympathetic.

"good luck."

 


	8. 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> connor tries to make an ok impression. hanks to tired to care. reed is reed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look at that i almost posted it when i said i would! im counting that as a win. i had a bit of fun writing this one but the real fun chapters will be here soon. the case starts in two chapters, markus gets mention in three and if we're luck our boy will meet in about four or maybe five chapter! later than i said but some shit need to happen first. our favourite leader boy is coming.

Compared to the task of interacting with his new partner; walking past the other officers was no longer daunting. They at least either didn't care about or looked mildly interested. Hank on the other hand looked somewhere between angry and resigned, like he was either going to slam his head into the desk or throw the desk depending on how the next conversation went.

Connor was a state of the art prototype android designed for combat, Hank was a fifty three year old alcoholic.

Connor was a little bit intimidated.

He couldn't pin down the exact moment, but somewhere along the lines Connor had become resigned to the way deviancy often overturned his common sense. It was easier to try to work around it than get angry at it.

He approached the lieutenant's desk slightly slower than necessary, partly because he wasn't sure how Hank would react, but also partly because he didn't know what he would say when he got there. As he passed an officer shot him a sympathetic and reassuring smile. Facial recognition identified the officer as Chris Miller. Connor decided he liked him and tried to return the smile. It probably wasn't all that convincing based on Chris's amused look.

Connor stopped in front of Hank's desk and found himself fidgeting with his sleeves as he waited for the lieutenant to speak. Hank didn't bother looking up from the screen he was glaring at. Connor waited several seconds for an acknowledgement before giving the man's desk a quick scan. Anti android stickers...Detroit gears paraphernalia...Dog hair...An old newspaper clipping of hank's glory days...Plenty of conversation starters but none that felt good enough.

_ Come on Connor, the most advanced social interaction protocols and you can't start a conversation? Speak you fool! _

"so how bad is reed that you'd rather deal with a rookie than him?"

Hank's head shot up faster than expected. He looked halfway between surprised and almost amused.

"...Kid...I'd shoot myself before I got stuck with that asshole." Hank said shaking his head with a smile.

Connor surprised himself with a relieved laugh.

"well...Hopefully I'm not as bad as that lieutenant."

Hank let out a semi-annoyed huff as his eyes flicked back to his screen. He didn't speak for several seconds before he groaned in defeat.

"for fucks sake...Whatever. That desk their is free. Just...I don't know, don't be an idiot?" Hank gestured gestured vaguely toward the opposite desk before turning his body to face away from connor as much as possible.

He'd count that as a win.

Connor plopped down into the chair and booted up his terminal. He had no assigned work as of yet. He glanced back to hank and found the lieutenant hadn't advanced very far in his own work.

"...Lieutenant is there anything I can help you with? I don't have any assigned work yet."

Hank shot him an annoyed look. "What you wanna do my work so you can get on my good side?"

Connor opened his mouth to argue but hank was already talking again. "Fuck it. Here you can fill out some of my paperwork. Not like I wanted to do it anyway." As he finished grumbling Connors computer let out a loud ping to indicate a file had been sent.

Clicking the files revealed the files for several recent arrests and their unfinished paperwork. If he were to do this internally they could be done in a matter of seconds, but in order to appear human he would need to spend at least the next twenty seven minutes hand typing. Appearing human was so inefficient.

Hank didn't say anything else so he decided he probably shouldn't annoy the lieutenant if he wanted to stay on his...Optimistically neutral side? Instead Connor filled the wasted time typing with researching the care of house plants and cats. After a moment's hesitation Connor added a background search on Hank to his queue. Irrationally he felt guilty about the addition.

There was no reason to feel guilty, if he hoped to maintain a relatively functional partnership he needed to know as much as possible about the man.

Still he decided it would be best if hank never found out; he had a feeling the older man wouldn't take kindly to it...

*                                                                                                                                              *                                                                                                                                                             *

Nearly twenty minutes later hank stood from his desk and stretched until his back popped. Connor ignored the prompt to recommend a physiotherapist.

Hank to a step in the direction of the break room before pausing and looking at Connor. After a few seconds his shoulders slouched in resignation.

"Alright kid, come on. Let get a coffee...See if there's anyway to salvage today."

Connor tilted his head at the comment but decided against biting. Hank would probably be sour about their partnership for several days at least, no point in making it worse. Instead he saved his progress and followed Hank to the break room.

Something else Connor had accepted about his deviancy was the change in his posture. Previously he'd had perfect posture, but now he found he tended to hunch his shoulders when around others. That was nothing compared to hanks posture though, seeing the mans slouch made it nearly impossible to ignore the recurring physiotherapist prompt.

As the two entered the break room and Connors attention was drawn immediately to the two people standing by the coffee machine. Facial recognition identified them as Tina Chen and Gavin Reed. So the person hank would rather die than be partnered with? How bad could he be?

As they approached the coffee machine reed looked up and immediately had an evil twinkle in his eye.

"Whoo...It's starting to smell of booze in here!" Reed waved a hand in front of his face as though clearing a bad smell. Hank visibly ground his teeth but didn't respond as he started making himself a coffee.

Immediately bore reed switched to sizing Connor up as a new target. He looked Connor up and down several times before turning to hank with a shit eating grin.

"Christ Anderson! What are you doing with the twink intern? He's way out of your age range and you don't make enough to be a sugar daddy."

When hank again refused to respond reed turned back to Connor.

"hey twink, make me a coffee would you?"

Several prompts popped up, including insulting him and spilling coffee on him. After a brief psychological analysis Connor decided reed's grandstanding was either a hazing method or a test of dominance.

"you seem to have an obsession with twinks detective, that wouldn't have anything to do with your apparent inability to use your hands would it?" Connor asked with a straight face, tilting his head slightly for effect.

Beside him hank choked on his recently made coffee and Chen patted him on the back as the to broke out into laughter.

Reed for his part went quite and his face become unreadable.

Finally he shrugged and muttered a venomless "asshole." As he went to make his on coffee.

Connor noted a slight improvement in his and hank's relationship.

 


	9. 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a time skip to the day before Carloz Ortiz's murder. we look at the development of Hank and Connors friendship and have Connor reevaluate some of his traumas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was going to post this yesterday but...shit happens? after i post this chapter ill finally be going back to edit the last couple of chapters and fix the capitalisation and punctuation. the reason my chapters have been really sloppy about that up until now is I've been writing them in notepad which has no spellcheck. anyway im getting really excited about the next couple of chapters, the case is starting and the drama begins!!!!! also in this chapter the way connor reacts to baby damien is the way i react to my nephew every time i see him. smol...  
> by the way i named chris's wife "Cassey" because i couldn't find her canon name, if she has an actual canon name please tell me so i can change it.  
> ok ok ok onto the story!  
> action!

November 4 (two months later)

It had taken a while but Connor was happy to say that he and Hank had finally become friends, albeit with a fair bit of reluctance on hanks part. He didn't fully warm up to Connor until the end of their third week as partners, rather than letting Connor walk home as he had every day previously, Hank had offered him a lift home, and despite the loud death metal that always accompanied a ride with hank the two of them actually had a conversation. A brief one certainly but it was a start. He was thankful for his perfect memory allowing him to archive that conversation.

It had all seemed the same as ever until out of nowhere hank had said "you know I expected you to have requested a transfer by now."   
Connor hadn't been expecting any significant interaction so he didn't think twice before responding. "Why is that lieutenant?"  
"Because I'm a pain in the ass. Because I show up to my shifts late and hungover. Because I'm going to ruin that shiny record of yours and hold you back from climbing the ladder."

Connor had been so surprised by hank's admission that it had taken him several seconds to think of a response. "...Don't flatter yourself hank. I can ruin my record just fine on my own."  
Hank had laughed at that and something finally seemed to click. After that the interactions between the two had been noticeably more relaxed and friendly. They started talking more during their shifts, trading banter (Connor was proud to say he had gotten much better at casual interactions) and mocking Gavin at every turn. Hank had even invited Connor to the bar on occasion after work, although this had on several occasions resulted in hank getting more shit faced than usual and led to Connor driving him home. Outside of helping him into his house while drunk, hank had only invited Connor into his home once. He'd tried not to pry but there was only so much he could do to ignore his programmed curiosity. Outside of the increasing empty beer bottles and empty take out containers their was very little to occupy his attention, which made it hard to avoid noticing the gun and the child's photo on the dining table. He knew hank noticed him looking at them but neither of them had mentioned it. Whatever tenuous friendship they had wouldn't survive crossing that bridge. Instead Connor had sat down with sumo and focused the conversation on him. A lighter conversation, a happier one.

Connor had really enjoyed that day; October 13. He and Hank talked about pets for almost an hour; hank arguing that dogs were better while Connor humoured the argument by defending peanut's honor. In the end hank had accused him of being on the same side as Gavin and the conversation had ended in laughter.  
Their friendship hadn't seemed to have drastically improved in anyway so it was all the more surprising when a few days later hank had turned up at his apartment with a stray cat he had found.   
The old man had brushed it off saying "I almost hit the mangy thing. Dumb little shit ran right in front of my car. Better having it in here than running amuck on the street."  
Even if Hank had tried to brush it off Connor had been surprisingly touched by the gesture. That being said, he still hadn't let Hank into the apartment. Another bridge he wasn't ready to cross. For her part peanut wasn't ecstatic about their new roommate but after a few days and some literal cat fights eventually the apartment had returned to peace.

Connor's life had finally settled into a comfortable routine; exit stasis, feed peanut and Schrodinger, go to work, talk with hank and go home at the end of the day. Rinse repeat. The stability was calming and his daily cases kept him from growing bored.

Today hadn't broken the mould yet. Peanut had been her usual self; whining and rubbing against his leg trying to keep him from leaving, dotty had waved at him in the hall and reminded him rent was due on Monday, the walk to work had been crowded but uneventful and he had spent the morning filling out paperwork for a break and enter case. Hank followed his routine as well; turning up two hours late and hung over, clutching his coffee like a lifeline until lunch.  
The break from routine didn't happen until their shift was ending. There was a game on that night and hank had invited him to jimmies bar to watch it, Connor had agreed and the two started packing up for the day. That was when the change happened. 

In a place like the station the sound of a baby’s gurgles and a mothers tired giggles were so out of place they were unmissable.  
Chris's wife had driven to the station to pick him up after his shift, and with her was their two month old son. Chris was always a nice man and had been the first to try to befriend Connor, which meant that he had already heard quite a bit about little Damien. It was no surprise that several officers had abandoned their work to see the baby. Connor found he was all too happy to join in the group, although Hank seemed reluctant.

Cassey looked as tired as one would expect of a recent mother, however she still smile warmly as she fussed over and showed off her son. She smiled as Connor came to a halt beside her and was about to greet him when her phone started ringing. Her smile turned exasperated as she struggled to fish her phone out of her bag while holding the baby. After a moment she gently passed him over to Connor with and apologetic "can you hold him for a second?"   
He had been about to argue but when the baby shifted and took a hold of his sleeve anything he'd been about to say died in his throat. 

This was the exact opposite of what he was built for. He was built for intense combat and violence, intended to be a cold and brutal killing machine. Despite that he was rendered speechless in awe of the tiny bundle in his arms. He was so small and so fragile. From a technical standpoint Connor knew all there was to know about babies, from the needs and their size ranges to the exact amount of newtons of force their bodies could withstand. None of that data seemed to capable of summing up the real baby in his arms. Tiny sausage fingers curling with little strength around his sleeve, a small but strong heart that he could feel pounding through his chest, large curious eyes that looked straight through him and weak little bones. He was sure that if he wasn't careful this fragile creature might shatter in his grip.  
"Looking a little star struck there buddy." Chris teased clapping him gently on the shoulder.  
Connor looked up at him with wide eyes. "He's...So small."  
Chris laughed in surprise as he gently scooped his son out of Connors arms. "Careful Connor; don't need you getting clucky."   
Connor gave an uncertain smile. It wouldn't matter even if he did get clucky; he was incapable of having or adopting children. That was likely the only reason he was so enthralled by the infant, it was something he would never experience himself. He turned his head towards hank expecting similar teasing, but found he had retreated several steps back and had a pained, haunted expression on his face.

"I'm serious, it looks like I'll have to keep a close eye on him so you don't try to steal him." Chris continued to tease.  
"Oh don't worry about that, I would never...Too easy to get caught."  
"Maybe not but you're welcome to babysit if you'd like." Cassey told him as she pocketed her phone.

Behind him hank finally started moving, going straight for the exit without a word.  
"I'll have to think about it, would you excuse me? I've got to go before Hank leaves without me." Without waiting for a response he skidded off to catch up with hank who was already halfway down the stairs.

The drive to the bar was silent for the first time in weeks. It didn't exactly feel like a step backwards so much as a side step, one that no-one had been expecting. It was obvious he had unresolved issues around children, but Connor had no idea how to even broach the subject. He didn't even think it was his place to try. Then again it might be hypocritical if he did.  
He wasn't sure what it was but he seemed weak to children. Maybe it was his own unresolved guilt and trauma around Emma and Daniel coming back to haunt him, or his need to redeem himself after failing to save the child android at the junkyard, or maybe it was a fascination with something he could never experience. Whatever it was the memory of holding Damien in his arms seemed to loop endlessly throughout the car ride. 

As always when they got to jimmy's Hank was quick to power his way to drunkenness, eager to wash away whatever memory was haunting him. At ten when Connor pried him away from the bar and drove him home he almost felt envious of Hank. It'd be nice if he could use similar techniques to run from his trauma.


	10. 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hank and connor are called to investigate carlos ortiz's murder. connor isn't as subtle as he needs to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im back, the fires are mostly over in my area but it took a long time for the smoke to clear out. i should hopefully be able to update once more before new year and maybe one more in the first week of january. that being said there is a wild card that may destroy that schedule; i'll spare you the details until it inevitably happens but for now enjoy.

It hadn't been a great day for Connor.

Peanut and Schrodinger were officially criminals and murderers; having killed a goldfish. he'd had the fish tank for almost a week and given the cats apparent disinterest in it he had lowered his guard. a rookie mistake. despite her cuteness Peanut was apparently a sadistic little psychopath, and had scooped one of the the fish out while Connor was filling her food bowl. she didn't even eat the poor fish either, she sat on it.

so yes the day had started with the betrayal of his furry daughter. not a good sign really.  
he wasn't one to believe in bad omens, but even the weather seemed to predict nothing good for the day; all grey clouds and looming thunder. still he hadn't given up on the day completely until Hank showed up.

over the two months he'd spent as Hank's partner Connor had witnessed many of Hanks mood swings, but this? this was new. it wasn't that Hank hadn't had days as low as this one previously, but they always had a build up. two or three days where his mood would sour continuously. not this time though.

Hank had shown up nearly and hour later than usual, making him three hours late. his eyes were redder than usual and scans showed he was dehydrated. he didn't banter or joke when Connor greeted him, didn't even respond to his taunt at Gavin. it was a bad day.

Hank had different kinds of bad days. there were bad days where he was angry; snapping at everyone over every little thing. those days required distance, quiet and coffee.   
There were bad days when he was lonely; he'd isolate himself and push people away. Those days required persistence and understanding.   
There were bad days when he was sad, low on energy and apologetic. Those days required reassurance and comforting, and maybe a bit of teasing at Gavin's expense.  
days like this though? Connor still didn't know how to handle them.

Hank wasn't lonely, or angry or even sad. he was like an empty husk that occasionally spoke.   
it might be easier if Connor slipped back into the persona of a nondeviant android, emotionless and empty as well. he didn't though, he wasn't sure he even could anymore. so instead he just lingered, ready for Hank to reach out if he had to.

their shift ended and he still hadn't. so Connor didn't either.

Hank didn't offer a lift home that day, just a quiet goodbye as he undoubtedly made his way to Jimmy's. Connor wasn't disappointed, he knew Hank drank every night and there hadn't been any improvement during their partnership. he was sad but not disappointed.

 

*                                                                                      *                                                                                    *

 

at 11:03pm Connor received a call.

even as a deviant Connor took great comfort in routines, and for the most part his schedule was moulded to suit the living beings in his life. every morning at seven he would feed his Peanut and Schrodinger, and at seven thirty he'd feed the fish. every day at work he and hank would break for coffee between one and one thirty. Gavin would interrupt within five minutes and would leave as soon as his ego had been sufficiently bruised or inflated. at five thirty barring ex-tenuous circumstances Connor would either walk the long way home or accompany hank to a bar. at nine thirty his cats would be fed and by two he would enter stasis.

it wasn't a rigid or a complicated routine but it worked well at keeping his stress levels down, and in two months it had not been majorly broken, not by work, or even Hanks mood swings.  
which is why he was so unsettled to be called into work at 11pm.

late night homicides weren't unusual by any means, but given he and Hank had worked day shift it was unusual for them to be called in for a specific case so late at night.

"Homicide at 107 Elrington street. suspected android involvement."

such a simple sentence but it quickly put him on edge. he'd managed to avoid any crimes relating to androids thus far, likely a result of luck and Hank's obvious disdain for them (something that still concerned him). he wasn't sure what worried him the most about the prospect of investigating another android; that they were likely innocent and would be destroyed regardless, that they might not be innocent and could reveal a side to androids he didn't want to face, or maybe it was that the prospect of investigating his own kind left him feeling vulnerable to discovery.  
perhaps it was for the best that hank would inevitably be drunk for this case. Connor had quickly learnt that Hank was actually a talented investigator even while drunk, and if things turned sour the last thing he needed was Hank being fully alert.  
then again that was assuming he could even get Hank to leave the bar.

Jimmy's was only a five minute taxi ride from Connor's apartment, he could've bought time by walking, but a human wouldn't walk in the rain so neither should he. he also didn't feel like staying in wet clothes longer than necessary, but that was more of a preference than a logical reason. regardless he didn't plan how he'd approach Hank; he found it rarely did him any good. there was something about the spontaneity in their conversations that just worked, and it seemed like their best interactions lacked any forethought.

as expected Hank was occupying his regular seat at the bar; nursing a glass of whiskey and watching the game. it was the Detroit gears playing; Hank would be annoyed to miss the end.

several of the regulars acknowledged Connor as he entered, a few nods and one half hearted wave. he doubted any of them knew what his name was, they mostly just  knew him as the guy who carried Hank out three times a week. Jimmy didn't look as relieved to see him as he sometimes did, but he also didn't seem disappointed. that was a good sign, it meant hank was at least in a semi reasonable state of mind.

He plopped down into the seat next to hank silently, leaning slightly into his personal space.  
Hank kept his gaze trained on the screen and he didn't speak, just took another sip of his whiskey.   
there were several ways he could go about this situation; he could try just talking to hank, he could keep up the silent treatment and wait for hank to talk to him, or he could be a little shit and steal his drink. the last option was tempting, but given hanks recent mood it might not be such a good idea to provoke him.

"the captain said you haven't been answering your phone Hank."

hank let out a quiet self satisfied snort "so what he sent you here to babysit me?"

"something like that. we've been assigned a homicide case."  
Hank let out an annoyed huff as he downed the last of his glass and motioned for another."yeah...and we aren't on shift or on call. dispatch can send someone else."

"...Hank we were assigned this case specifically; aren't you curious why? they know we're off duty and they have other officers but they called us?"

Hank seemed to mull it over as Jimmy poured another whiskey. hank was in a bad mood but he was still the same man that became Detroit youngest lieutenant; there was an unquenchable desire for answers burning in him. maybe it had been hidden behind the alcohol but with the right question and probing it would always roar to life.

"...what is it about this case that's got you on edge Connor?"  
drunk but still perceptive. sometimes more perceptive than Connor would like.

"there's..." Connor fumbled for a moment for an explanation "...there's been suspicions of an androids involvement in the murder...I've never heard of a case involving an android before, if this is legit then...I don't know..."

Hank eyed him in a way that left Connor feeling exposed. it wasn't a good explanation but there was no good explanation. he needed to see this; to understand how the status quo might change and to get ahead of whatever the future had coming for him. he needed Hank to agree.

after a moment hank left out a tired sigh before sculling his drink.  
"Jesus kid; you're a bigger pain in my ass than that time i sat on a wine glass."

surprised Connor smiled sheepishly. "lets be fair now; Gavin's a bigger pain and you know it."

hank let out a surprised bark off laugh before mumbling something about an asshole. Connor didn't miss the half smile as he inelegantly stood and shoved a few crumpled notes on bar. not many people still carried cash on them, but Hank was stubbornly old fashioned.

"alright I'm coming; where's the stiff?"

"107 elrington street. I can drive if you're having difficulty."

"don't sass me kid, in this line of work i know how to hide a body."

 

*                                *                                    *

 

the house was run down, likely had black mould and probably only a few months left before it'd be deemed unlivable. honestly it was like most of the houses on that street, dreary and dead, or it would be if it weren't for the swarm of nosy reporters and curious onlookers pushing to the the very edges of the police tape. hank had once referred to reporters as vultures and Connor found himself thoroughly agreeing with the description as he watched them clambering about desperate to catch any information on the potential carcass hidden in the the building. it wasn't often he felt repulsed by humans but this was certainly a time he was.

the crowd parted with little fuss as he and Hank made their way through, although a reporter did try unsuccessfully to ask hank about the crime. a police android let him pass without question. as always he felt vulnerable in the androids presence; although it wasn't as advanced as him its was still designed to assist officers, and an irrational part of him screamed that the nondeviant android would realise what he was and turn him over.

it didn't give him a second glance.

"Evening Hank, Connor." a familiar voice called. Ben Collins.

"we were starting to think you two weren't gonna show."

"yeah well that was the plan until this ass-hole found me." hank replied half amused half annoyed.

"i figured. good job Connor; someone had to take one for the team and keep this idiot on track." Ben winked good-naturedly as hank grumbled some half hearted insults.

"what exactly do we know about the situation." Connor asked before the two could continue their banter.

Ben shrugged as he started to walk to the building.   
"we got a call from the land lord; tenant hadn't paid rent in a couple of months, so he thought he'd drop by and see what was going on...thats when he found the body."

the three of them entered the doorway and hank immediately recoiled in disgust.   
"Jesus that smell!"  
even Connor found his nose wrinkling in disgust. he may not be able to perceive smell the way humans could, but he did have sensors to provide an equivalent. the ability to "smell" had been given to most domestic androids so they could better attend to their human masters needs including dealing with foul odours. he had no idea why a detective android would need it as well.

one day he would have some choice words with his creators.

Ben continued to fill them in as they entered; turning slightly more green with every step until they reached the body.

"christ...state he's in it wasn't worth getting everyone here in the middle of the night...could've waited till morning." hank muttered.  
Connor disagreed but he did say anything. the extra hours might make a difference to him, but not to a human.

"i'd say he's been dead a good three weeks. we'll know more when the coronor gets here."  
internally connor again lamented the inefficiency of pretending to be human as he scanned the body. he knew Ortiz had been killed nineteen days ago around eleven thirty, but he couldn't say anything.

Ben and Hank continued discussing the details they knew as Connor began studying the room.

"theres a kitchen knife over here; probably the murder weapon"

he found red ice on the table that matched traces on Ortiz's face.

"any sign of a break in?"

"nope; the landlord said the front door was locked from the inside, all the windows were boarded up. the killer must have gone out the back way."

the writing was in perfect cyberlife sans font, written in Ortiz's blood. single strong strokes without the slightest variation in speed or pressure.

"what do we know about his android?"

Connor discreetly analysed the blood.

"not much; the neighbours confirmed he had one but it wasn't here when we arrived."

tasteless advertisements to the Eden club. the more Connor saw the more he was glad to have never met Ortiz while he was still living.

"i've-I gotta get some air." ben stammered finally and quickly left.

Hank gave him a side eye.   
"did you pay attention to any of that?"

"probably more than you did." Connor replied with a shit eating grin.

Hank slowly went over everything he'd already seen as Connor continued on through the rest of the apartment.

the situation became increasingly clear with each piece of evidence he found. some poor android had been stuck serving a disgust, violent drug addict and had turned deviant upon being attacked. if this were a human they'd likely be acquitted on self defence. an android would not.

finally Connor found himself entering the bathroom and for a moment his stress levels spiked before calming down.

Ra9.

_Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9a9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 R Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9 Ra9._

three letters and a number. it meant nothing.

_it meant everything._

something inside him seemed to click into place when he saw the them but he couldn't explain it. 

there was nothing in the room except fanatical writing and a hand carved offering.

he exited the bathroom, and on an impulse scanned for traces of thirium. instantly a messy trail led him to an attic door. the android was likely still inside, all Connor had to do was go up and detain them.

he ignored the attic.  
Connor returned to hank calmer than when he had first arrived. hank seem tired and unimpressed as he approached the backdoor and opened it.

"the killer must have gone out this way. this happened weeks ago and no-one knows what the android looks like. i don't think we're going to find them." Connor lied as he looked at the footprint-less ground.

Hank looked at him for several moments with an unreadable expression.

his stress levels started growing but Connor didn't back down or react.

finally hank shrugged and agreed.  
the two cleared out of the scene quickly, letting Ben know what they thought and telling him to contacted them if new evidence was found.  
Hank offered to drive Connor home and he took him up on the offer. neither of them spoke during the ride home.

Connor didn't know if he made the right decision in the house, whether he should have caught the android or at the very least confronted him. in the end it didn't matter.  
if he were to do it all over he'd make the same decision.


End file.
